Casino Deplaunds
by Mark Geoffrey Norrish
Summary: "Curse-breaking" is an extremely broad job description. Sometimes it calls for a good wizard. Sometimes it calls for a good gambler.


_AN: I made Drachenwalk up for this. I haven't playtested it, and the rules presented here aren't meant to be comprehensive._

_Apologies to Ian Fleming. Also, J.K. Rowling, I suppose._

Casino Deplaunds was widely considered to be the best, most tasteless casino in the Western world. It stood five storeys tall, overlooking a hidden beach on the south of France, populated by a tribe of attractive saltwater merfolk. Around it was what would be described as a village if it were less élite; hôtels which would have been mortally offended to be rated four and a half stars, shops selling magical Europe's best vintages, Quidditch supplies, and potions sometimes not of a strictly medical nature. Beyond these were kilometres of fields, growing fresh produce, magical and otherwise. The entire area was blanketed in Muggle-repelling Charms, of course.

Inside the Morpheus Hôtel, on the third floor, which commanded the best views and highest prices in the village, a pretty twentyish-year-old maid bent over the queen-size bed and fluffed the pillows. Her skirt was _very_ short. Poor people did their own housework, rich people had elves, extremely rich people had witches.

"I'm just down the corridor," she told the guest with her brightest smile, "don't hesitate to ask me if you need anything … at all. Day or night." Her accent was light Italian.

"Thank you," he said, flashing an easy grin, "but I'm going to be out all night. I'm feeling lucky."

"Oh, I hope so," she said with a wink. "I'll see you around, Monsieur Weasley."

"Call me Bill," he said, and waved her out. When she shut the door behind her, he pulled his brief from his pocket and read it once more.

_Weasley –_

_Tarkeus was seen in Deplaunds Casino last night. This may be our only opportunity to recover the priceless Metticka Amulet from him._

_He most likely is celebrating beating us to the tomb, and, hopefully, does not have his wits fully about him. He will not realise our plans until it is too late._

_Your mission is to travel to Deplaunds by the enclosed Portkey, find him, and bankrupt him. He owes thirteen Galleons, two Sickles and three Knuts to Gringotts; if you can reduce his capital below this amount, we authorise you to call in the debt directly, which will force him to surrender the Amulet as collateral. Failing this, attempt to claim the Amulet by any legal means necessary._

_Knowing him, he's likely to be playing either baccarat or Drachenwalk._

_Do try to pay attention to the actual job this time, rather than the waitresses._

_Yours,_

_Mallick, Chief of Artefact Acquisition_

Bill nodded and put it back into his jacket, then checked the letter of credit enclosed with it: ten thousand Galleons, authorised by the Bank of Gringotts. He smiled.

.. ... ...

Inside, the casino was even more tastelessly decorated than the Hôtel. Red plush carpet an inch thick covered every floor. The mahogany-panelled walls were hung with moving paintings, mostly of young, attractive witches and wizards; Bill paused to admire one titled _Chloe_. The building was illuminated by floating crystal lanterns.

A huge roulette wheel stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by a crowd of people betting weeks' or even months' wages at a time. To one side was a cluster of tables where people played _jeu de tarot_. On the other side was a bar; behind the roulette wheel were a staircase leading up and doors to private rooms.

He went over to the bar. Most of the people here were either classy dames or middle-aged businessmen flaunting their wealth by buying the dearest drinks the house sold. Bill smiled and a barmaid was with him instantly.

"One pumpkin martini, please," he said.

"Coming right up," she said, beaming.

"You haven't seen a man in brown robes come in, have you?" said Bill. "He's a friend of mine. Name's Tark; he likes cards."

"Not that I remember," said the woman. "If he's not at tarot, I'd try looking on the next floor." She handed over the martini.

"Thanks, love," he said, and strolled over to the stairs.

Looking up forced him to see the ornamented ceiling: dozens of golden chandeliers hung from it, and it bore a mosaic of saltwater merfolk chatting to wizards on a wooden sailing boat.

The next floor was mostly tables of card games, and it only took him a moment to spot Tarkeus sitting at a table with four other wizards and one witch. He sauntered over, watched a few hands, and sat himself down.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asked.

"Not at all, Weasley," said Tarkeus, with an ironic smile. "So glad you could join us at last. You British chaps aren't too quick, are you?"

"We get the job done," said Bill.

"Apparently not," said Tarkeus, and his smile shifted to a smirk. "Ante's a hundred Galleons."

Bill took out his letter of credit; the dealer took it, nodded, and waved his wand at a piece of vellum. It neatly printed _IOU 100 Galleons: Casino Deplaunds_ and settled in the middle of the table, with a pile of other IOUs. The dealer then dealt him his cards: a five and ten of cups face up, and a knight of wands and ace of swords face down.

_Drachenwalk_ was a game popular in wizarding Germany, and one of those in which a skilled player could expect to make a lot of money from a novice. Tarkeus was smart enough that he was probably profiting from the others; Bill would have to target him directly.

In each turn, a player revealed a face down card to attack either neighbouring player; Bill sat next to Tarkeus because of this. If the revealed card beat that player's near face-up card, the defender put their card into their discard pile and either put one of their cards in hand down to replace it or took one from the deck and cycled a card from hand, putting it at the bottom of the deck. The attacker cycled their own card. Trumps beat any defender but had to be put into the attacker's graveyard after use; in defence, they lost to any attack. The winner of the round was whoever had the lowest card total in their graveyard when the deck emptied, with higher-ranked cards worth more.

The wizard on Bill's left went first, and attacked him, predictably, hoping to spook the newcomer into making an early blunder. Bill lightly motioned the dealer to kill his five and threw his ace in, as _Drachenwalk_ had them as the lowest card; he was rewarded with a defending king and a trump in hand.

Play went round, with the other players killing each other's cards. The lone witch, who was pretty but had an undercurrent of steel, smiled at the wizard on her right, and he attacked right, away from her. She promptly attacked him with the king of wands, knocking out his jack, and passed to Tarkeus, who knocked out Bill's ten with a trump.

"Attacks right," Bill replied, revealing his knight; it walked out of its border and ran Tarkeus' nine through. The dealer took the knight and put it into the deck, then pushed the nine in front of Tarkeus with a croupier.

Play went round eight more times. The wizard on Bill's left kept attacking him, which was poor play, as it left the man on _his_ left with very few casualties. _Drachenwalk_ had a tendency to allow kingmaking, as one could prevent an opponent from winning very easily, by attacking them exclusively; Bill usually avoided the game for that reason, but it suited tonight's purposes very well. He attacked Tarkeus every turn he could, giving both of them flush graveyards, while the players at the opposite end of the table played more conservatively and took only less-valued losses. The witch split her attacks between Tarkeus and the sap on her right, who hadn't attacked her after the first time, when she responded with doe eyes.

"Game is over," the dealer declared. "Winner is madame."

She beamed and accepted the stack of paper worth 600 Galleons.

"Is this really helpful for either of us?" Tarkeus said to Bill. "Targeting me just wastes both of our money."

"Please do," said the witch.

"Want to settle things properly, then?" Bill asked, ignoring her.

"I want that money back," Tarkeus said, nodding.

"Esmée?" said the dealer to a waitress. She nodded and took them into a private room, empty except for a small table with five chairs.

"Stakes?" Tarkeus asked.

"Make it worth my while," Bill said. "Ten thousand."

Tarkeus raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment. Of course, even if he exhausted his working capital, it wouldn't be catastrophic; the Metticka Amulet would solve his monetary problems handily once he got it to the Vatican.

"I don't have an entire bank backing me up, unlike you" he said.

"Hey, as long as you have enough left to get home," said Bill. Esmée laughed appreciatively and stood close behind him. "Another pumpkin martini, please?"

She repeated the order very clearly to her serving tray, and a martini appeared atop it. "On the house," she said, and handed it to him. He took a sip.

Tarkeus raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to bankrupt you. I'll bet half of my capital. That's three thousand, eight hundred, to the nearest hundred."

Bill thought it over. Tarkeus would never accept a bet that would bankrupt him with one bad round. Still, three thousand-odd Galleons would weaken his position considerably. "Call it a round four thousand?"

"Hmm. Why not," said Tarkeus. "Deal," he added to Esmée, who took a seat and produced a pack of cards from a pocket.

Like most casino employees, she knew the game rules and could shuffle competently. She dealt each player four cards. Bill cringed: an ace, a four, a five, and a trump.

"Attacks five," said Tarkeus, revealing a six. Bill cycled his four and got a ten and another trump.

"Trumps jack," Bill replied, revealing.

They went back and forth, knocking out one another's defenders and accumulating dead cards. Both players were card counters, and kept partial track of the remaining cards. Theoretically it was possible to remember their order, and reduce the game to one of perfect knowledge halfway through, but that would require memorising over thirty cards within about two minutes.

"Attacks jack," said Tarkeus, showing a king. The waitress dealt replacements and flicked them across the table with practised ease.

"Attacks chevalier," Bill said, with a queen.

"That's it," said Esmée. "End of the deck. Let me tally the tricks."

She took both graveyards and paired cards of equal value off. Bill had taken slightly more cards, having had to use trumps, but he'd lost fewer high point cards.

"Sixty-eight points," she said, indicating Bill, "seventy-one. This gentleman wins."

Bill sighed at the release of tension.

"Good game," he said. "Esmée, it's usually a … five percent tip, isn't it?" He pulled out a quill and scratched out a two hundred Galleon cheque. She stared at the windfall, but took the paper.

Tarkeus growled. "Double or nothing," he said.

"Taking your money's fun and all," said Bill, giving a Gallic shrug (Fleur had tutored him), "but Gringotts has enough gold already, really."

"I want to go again," Tarkeus said, glowering.

"That's what she said," Bill observed. "And as I told her, I don't want your money."

He slouched back, cool as ice, while Tarkeus leaned forward and glared. Esmée watched him closely, in case he really lost his temper.

"The Amulet's worth more than you can afford," he said at length, and sat back.

"Tell you what," said Bill. "You win, you can keep my bankroll. I win, you still keep it, but I get the Amulet. Thirteen thou." The remaining seven hundred would cover expenses and something for Fleur from the gift shop. "Equivalent to a thirteen thousand bet, and I'll buy it off you for twenty-six when I win."

Saying 'when' rather than 'if' pressed Tarkeus' last button. "Done."

Esmée smirked, shuffled the deck, and dealt. Bill went first this time.

"Distaff King," he said, revealing the Tower trump. Both went into their graveyards.

"Kills eight of swords," Tarkeus replied, showing a trump of his own.

Bill smiled lazily and stretched as he played, and at one point stifled a yawn and checked his watch. It worked: this time he won seventy-five sixty-five.

"You should relax," said Bill, "you seem really –"

Tarkeus punched him in the jaw. Bill rolled with it and launched himself backward, knocking his chair over, rolling to his feet in the same movement.

"– tense," he finished.


End file.
